Unhappy Wives
by Krys33
Summary: A series of stories concerning the unhappy wives of Gilmore Girls. Final Chapter.
1. Sherry Tinsdale

A/N: Two stories in one day! I'm on a roll : )

I'm hoping that this story will make it to at least three, probably four, parts, eventually. I know some of you will be excited about that! It's sort of a compromise, each chapter being sort of a stand-alone in the same theme: Unhappy Wives.

--

Chapter One – Sherry Tinsdale

--

"Never doubt, never look back. That's how I live my life."

-Catherine Willows, CSI (1:23, Strip Strangler)

--

Sherry sat on the toilet in the bathroom of her suite. Her mascara was running and her hair was a mess, but right now she didn't care. All she could focus on was the 'Pregnant' readout on the pregnancy test she held in her hand. She wiped at her eyes, just making the black smears worse. That was the _fourth_ test. Was it a possibility that that .1 error had occurred all four times?

She laughed slightly at herself through the tears. Who was she kidding? She was pregnant. Shaking her head at her incompetence, Sherry ran her fingers through her tangled hair.

Christopher. How was she going to tell him? It was _her _who'd suggested the break in the first place. Would he think she was lying just to get him to come back to her? Would he still want to be with her?

Would he want to get married?

That thought scared her. Marriage? She couldn't do that. A kid? She couldn't do that either. She had a _job_, for Pete's sake! She didn't have _time_ for anything else. Much less something – someone – who needed constant attention. Could she afford a nanny? Could she afford _a baby_?

A baby.

She thought back to elementary school, playing house, pretending to be the mother. Always taking care of her dolls, feeding them with the miniature plastic baby bottles. Back then, child rearing seemed so easy. And so fun. Now, it seemed, all she could think of was the work it would take. She didn't know if she was ready for that.

Shaking her head, she tried to clear her thoughts. She was getting ahead of herself.

Sherry sighed. All she could do was tell him.

And hope for the best.

--

He'd held her hand through the delivery. And then he'd held Georgia in his arms after somewhat squeamishly cutting the umbilical cord.

Sherry watched them: father and daughter. They looked so perfect together.

Georgia wasn't even over ten minutes old, and she could see Christopher in her. Chris disagreed, saying she was all Sherry: completely perfect. She'd blushed at that comment.

As all three of them sat together in the hospital room like a family, Sherry had the fleeting thought that maybe, just maybe, it would all turn out okay.

--

Despite both her parents' and her in-laws' protests, she and Christopher wanted the simple wedding. Just her, him, and the justice of the peace.

The whole world couldn't know that they were getting married just for the sake of Georgia.

And despite her workaholic tendencies and his long absences for business, they managed to make it work. For nearly two years, they kept it together.

'_For Georgia_,' she reminded herself every time she felt like leaving. _'It's for Georgia'_

But when she got the job offer, she couldn't pass it up.

After a full week of thought, while Chris was in Seattle, she made up her mind.

She wrote the note with shaky hands.

"_Dear Chris_," It read. 

"_I was offered a job in Paris. Paris, France. And I'm so sorry to be doing this while you're gone, but it can't wait. I've waited. I've put everything on hold for almost two years to take care of our child. But I can't let this opportunity pass, Chris. It's too big of an offer._

_I'm sorry. But for once, I need to do something for myself. It's my turn to see the world. Take care of Georgia. _

_I love you,_

_Sherry"_

On the outside of the envelope, she wrote _"Chris" _in large print before filling it with the letter and sealing it shut. She handed it to the nanny, who seemed wary of the plan, as she headed out the door with her two suitcases.

She kept her eyes locked on the apartment door as the elevator closed in front of her. Just before the doors shut completely, she blew a kiss to her daughter, hoping she'd be all right.

And as Sherry pulled away, headed for the airport, she didn't look back. She never had, she never would. Everything happens for a reason. That was her philosophy.

Something deep inside her told her that she'd made the right decision.

It was time to move on.

--

To Be Continued…


	2. Lindsey Lister

A/N: Chapter two! Thanks for the feedback, y'all. Reviews are great!

--

Chapter Two – Lindsey Lister

--

"It's wrong, but you're doing it anyway.

So just do it."

Lucas, by Kevin Brooks

--

Lindsey flipped on the oven light and peered at the roast beef through the door. So far, so good. She was sure that this time, it was going to work.

Checking them off as she went, she followed the butcher's instructions. She reread everything at least three times before performing the action. Lindsey sighed and took a seat at the table, waiting. Dean should be home soon.

These last few months had been tough. But didn't everyone say that the first few years of marriage were hardest? Maybe things would get easier.

She certainly hoped so.

--

The roast beef was symbolic. It had to be. She'd been trying and trying and it just hadn't worked. But now, finally, she did it right.

Lindsey was positive that it was a sign.

Through the summer, things were getting better, it seemed. Dean still worked three jobs, but they talked more. They were growing closer; she could feel it.

She finally felt like a _wife_, as crazy as it seemed. It was so old-fashioned, but she loved it. He worked, and she stayed home, cooking and cleaning.

The perfect all-American couple.

Until the day she found _it_.

Dean had tossed his jacket on the floor again. Lindsey went to pick it up, shaking her head. Men. Did they ever listen?

It was completely innocent. She wasn't snooping or anything. As she picked up the jacket, the paper fell to the floor.

Lindsey hung up the jacket before picking up the note. She took a deep breath. Had he been hiding it?

She took a seat on the couch. After a moment of hesitation, she read the letter.

Her eyes scanned the page and the words entered her brain, but she refused to believe them. No. It couldn't be true.

Lindsey read the letter again.

And again.

And again.

She hoped that somehow, if she went over it enough, the words would change. That time would turn back and Dean would make a different choice.

The 'right' choice.

Neatly, Lindsey folded the paper and set it on the coffee table. She bit her lip, trying to be strong. There was no way she would cry.

Soon enough, though, she gave up. She put her face in her hands and let the tears flow.

At least no one would see.

Once she regained her composure, Lindsey retreated to the bathroom. She washed her face and reapplied her make-up.

She couldn't let Dean see her weakness.

After she looked good as new, she returned to the living room, sat on the couch, and waited. When Dean came home, he was getting a piece of her mind.

--

She'd tried to keep it together. She'd tried to stay calm. But the second she saw his face, all of her anger and frustration came flooding back.

Throwing his stuff out the window wasn't part of the plan. Publicly humiliating him wasn't part of the plan, either. She was supposed to sit him down, discuss the issue, and come to a conclusion.

The yelling came first. And the 'I'm sorry's from him just infuriated her more. Was that all he could say? Wasn't he going to try to explain himself? Try to fix their marriage?

Lindsey had just gotten fed up. She'd tossed his stuff out the window, wanting every last bit of him out of their – the word stung – house. There was no way she could look at any reminder of him anymore. It just hurt too much.

She knew it was wrong, but she did it anyway.

Because at the time, it had seemed like the only option.

--

To Be Continued…

(I'm betting that all you guys can guess who's next!)


	3. Nicole Leahy

A/N: Chapter 3! (Sorry it's short… It just finished a little sooner than I anticipated.)

And _ilovestarshollow_, you guessed it!

--

Chapter Three – Nicole Leahy

--

"If I could stop thinking about how great things used to be, maybe I could find the strength to leave."

Helen, Diary of a Mad Black Woman

--

Nicole didn't know the man that well.

Truthfully?

She'd just met him that night.

Never had she thought of herself as the 'cheating kind'. And never had she wanted to be thought of like that, either. Personally, she detested those women and how they treated others.

And it frightened her to think that she'd become one of them.

She didn't _hate_ Luke. She just wanted to get back at him, to make him feel her pain.

It was the way he felt about _her_. As much as he denied it, she could see it in his eyes. In the way he looked at her. There was always a hint of longing in his gaze, the look of wanting more than just the simple, platonic friendship that he claimed was all that they shared.

Nicole knew Luke wouldn't cheat on her. She knew he wasn't like that. But she couldn't help but think that when he looked at her, kissed her… even made love to her, that it wasn't really her he was thinking about.

Somehow she knew that Lorelai was always in the back of his mind, subconsciously controlling him and pushing her way into his thoughts.

And she hated her for it.

She knew it was wrong. It didn't seem that Lorelai was coming on to him or anything. It wasn't like she was _trying_ to steal Luke away, even as much as she tried to convince herself of that fact.

But Nicole couldn't help being jealous.

It seemed that Lorelai was just… effortless. She could steal Luke's attention with a flip of her hair or a smile. And she herself tried absolutely everything to make him want her, and it never seemed to break the spell that Lorelai cast on him.

She'd considered divorce, over and over. She'd gone over the pros and cons. She'd weighed her options.

As a lawyer, she knew the process. She knew what it entailed.

But somehow she could never bring herself to do it.

Every time she was close to initiating the procedure, all she could think about was the cruise and, ultimately, the spur-of-the-moment wedding.

It didn't hold a candle to the dream wedding she'd thought up in junior high, but it was still nice. Romantic, she called it. She told herself that they were so in love that they couldn't wait, that they didn't need a huge, fancy, expensive wedding to prove how much they cared.

Nicole remembered how happy they were. How carefree. She remembered how much fun they had and how much they enjoyed themselves. And she thought that maybe if she stayed, he would one day get over Lorelai. He would move on.

It had to happen eventually, right?

She tried to convince herself that if she stayed with him, one day they would get back to the way they were that summer.

One day, they would love each other again.

And that was all she really wanted.

--

To Be Continued…

I'm going to keep this as in-progress. My original plan was to have the next chapter be Emily Gilmore, but _brown-eyed-beauty87 _gave me some great ideas. I could do Francine Hayden or Shira Huntzberger. And I considered maybe a prior relationship of Patty or Liz. There are so many options now! Thoughts, anyone?


	4. Francine Hayden

A/N: Here's chapter 4. The fun in writing the more obscure characters is that you get to make up the back-stories yourself!

Before we start, I have to share my amazement at the amount of reviews. The feedback for chapter three was as much as the first two chapters _combined_. Also, three of my favorite authors reviewed this (thank you so much lisehrin, Muffin Is Injured, and Once Upon a Whim :who gets extra thanks for the great suggestion:). Your kind words are high praise from writers of your talent!

--

Chapter Four – Francine Hayden

--

"But you have… so many people who-"

"Can never hold me in the middle of the night, when I'm cold or scared or just need to be touched, when the world comes crashing down and I don't know where to turn. I reach for someone, but all I find is-"

"An empty pillow to hang on to."

-A Solitary Life, by graveshiftcsi author Ercila

--

Francine Hayden had tried her hardest to keep her son from going through the same ordeal she did. She had shielded him from the bad things in life. But there was nothing she could do when she discovered that Lorelai Gilmore was pregnant.

Her suggestion to get rid of the baby was not one made without thought. But the Gilmore family had no idea that the same thing had happened to her.

And as ashamed as she is to admit it even to herself, sometimes she wished she had made that choice.

At the age of 17, when she was Francine Phillips, she had discovered she was pregnant with Straub Hayden's baby. As all civilized people know, marriage was the only option.

Two weeks after the delivery, she stood in front of the alter in a white dress, declaring to honor and cherish forever a man that she didn't love. And she intended to keep that promise, no matter her own personal opinions.

It was all for the baby. That was what mattered now.

Francine was always supportive of Lorelai's decision. She admired the fact that a girl so young would defy her parents and the unwritten laws of life for what she thought was the right thing.

However, she never spoke of her support, in fear of her husband and in fear of damaging the Hayden reputation.

Straub was a very opinionated man with a quick temper. At the first sign of argument, he would raise his voice. This turned her into a very quiet, withdrawn woman.

She had become what she had scoffed in her youth. She had become the trophy wife with no thoughts of her own. Whenever a problem arose, immediately Francine sided with her husband.

It was easier that way.

Never had he struck her or physically harmed her in any way, but she felt as if the verbal humiliation wounded her more. She was frightened by their disputes, as Straub always seemed to be one small step away from hitting her.

Sometimes she wished that he would, thinking that if he did, the suspense during their fights would be less. It was like Chinese water torture to her – always waiting for the next drop, always waiting for him to cross the line from argumentative to abusive.

But Francine always swallowed her fear and kept her composure, never yelling in return but also never speaking her mind. She would hold in the tears until the time came when she could escape to her bedroom.

They didn't even sleep in the same room anymore.

She would cry until there were no more tears, hoping in vain that this would be the last time.

He loved her.

Right?

This wouldn't happen again.

Right?

And as much as she repeated these phrases to herself, she just never could quite believe it.

True love seemed such an odd desire for a grown, married woman, she thought. It's always associated with cheesy animated Disney movies and girly romantic comedies.

She couldn't help but fantasize sometimes, though, about the infamous Mr. Right.

And Francine would fall asleep, clutching her pillow close to her, wishing that she were holding on to a real person.

She'd rather have something over nothing.

When Straub died, she was embarrassed to admit her delight.

It wasn't as if she didn't mourn. She did. But after about a week, she wasn't sad anymore.

Because Francine knew she would finally get her shot at love.

Better late than never.

--

To Be Continued…

Please review.


	5. Shira Huntzberger

A/N: Chapter 5 up! This one's slightly based off of Emily's little conversation with Shira at the end of 6:5 – We've Got Magic to Do. I'm just assuming she knew what she was talking about…

--

Chapter Five – Shira Huntzberger

--

"If it ends, it ends."

-August Nicholson, The Village

--

For the first few weeks the September, Shira just stayed around the house. The summer after her senior year at high school had just ended, and all her friends were off to college.

She wished she was there with them, but her family just couldn't afford it.

Shira was bored. There was nothing to do in this small town of hers. Boy, would she love go to work – and God knew the family needed the money – but she'd been fired just before summer's end for sleeping with a fellow employee in the back room. She didn't regret it.

At least she'd gotten some extra cash.

As September began wrapping up, Shira thought long and hard about what she wanted to do with her life; where she wanted to go. On the final day of the month, she left in the early morning to catch a bus, leaving only a short note in her wake.

Eighteen years in that house had been enough. Forget peer pressure, the pressure in her own home stifled her.

And it was already taking its toll.

She didn't think her drug-addict mother and alcoholic father would miss her too much.

Less money for the kid, more money for the habit, they'd figure.

The bus ride was long and boring. With nothing to do, Shira spent the lengthy hours examining the landscape, dreaming of the wealthy life she hoped to live out in the west.

Shira stepped off the bus in Santa Fe. It was as far as her money would get her. She'd been headed for Vegas; she knew she could make a living there. Quickly formulating a plan, she headed towards the nearest bar.

She was depending on some guy to notice her so she could score a roll in the hay in exchange for enough money to get her back on her way.

It wasn't the grandest way to make a few bucks, but it worked.

As she sat at the bar, sipping at a drink bought for her by a shy, flirtatious man sitting a few stools down, a young man not much older than her came through the door. All the women in the establishment turned to look at him but her. She swirled her drink around in her glass, knowing just by a quick glance that he was way out of her league.

And her lack of attention made him all that more attracted to her.

He took a seat next to her.

Noticing this, she looked up and met his gaze.

He thought she was beautiful. The rumors were true, and he had been with many women in the past. But her, well, there was something about this blonde that struck him as… different.

There was a different air about her, one of independence and confidence. Most of the women he'd known hadn't seemed to have a cell in their brains. However, he hadn't even met the woman sitting before him and he could tell she was brighter than any female he'd ever known.

The man was gorgeous. His blonde hair, blue eyes, and flawless skin immediately put him off the charts. And when he smiled…

Well, she was pretty sure her legs turned to jell-o.

Maybe she did have a shot.

Shira had never been a big believer in the so-called 'love at first sight'. But this was probably as close as it got.

As she shook his hand, she was sure she could actually _feel_ the electricity running through them.

"Mitchum Huntzberger." He'd said.

And she was sold.

--

Shira looked back on that day with longing. Back then, she hadn't known his reputation. She hadn't known his darker side.

She hadn't known any of the bad things.

Back then; she'd just basked in the glory of being in love.

Now she had to deal with the affairs and the cheating.

He thought she didn't know. He thought he was getting away with it. But in a society such as theirs, gossip spread like wildfire. Everyone knew everyone's business.

That's just the way it was.

And when he came in late at night, smelling of some other woman's perfume, she pushed it aside and pretended to be asleep.

Because if she left him, she'd have nowhere to go.

--

To Be Continued

(Side note: To be truthful, I have no idea what color Mitchum Huntzberger/Gregg Henry's eyes are. I tried to figure it out, honestly! So if you know and I was wrong, I apologize.)


	6. Elizabeth Danes

A/N: Chapter 6! Remember, I don't know if Liz and Jimmy were ever _married_, but it was a suggestion that for the Liz chapter, I use Jess' dad, so I'm just assuming that they were.

I'm sorry for the slight delay in posting. I had a busy weekend, filled with wallpaper stripping and friend issues. I hope to have the next chapter up soon…

--

Chapter Six – Elizabeth Danes

--

Her relationship with Jimmy Mariano had sprung from a simple hotdog craving.

On her lunch break she stopped at his hotdog stand, and everything unfolded from there.

She'd returned to his cart every day, not because of the hotdogs – because she didn't have the heart to tell him she hated them – but because she had become Jimmy's friend. He looked forward to her visits, knowing that she came at 12:17, give or take a couple minutes.

And after they had a firm foundation of friendship, he'd nervously asked her out on a date.

Much to his surprise, she'd accepted.

He wasn't the richest man in New York, but he still chivalrously footed the small bill of their pizza and movie. The one who asks, pays, after all.

Again to his surprise, they'd had a good time. He'd expected awkwardness and silence, like there usually were on his first dates. But there'd been none.

They continued to go out for a few days after that.

Then the days turned into weeks.

The weeks turned into months.

And before she knew it, Liz had been seeing Jimmy for a year.

She thought she'd finally found the infamous, elusive Mr. Right. She was sure that, this time, it would work.

So when he proposed, she said yes.

It wasn't her first wedding, but she told herself that it would be the last.

The wedding was small. On Liz's side sat her father and brother, along with some old high school friends and a few colleagues. On Jimmy's side sat his parents and younger sister, with his high school best friend and the owners of the neighboring carts on the street. The service was short, as was the reception.

However, the meaning of the event wasn't lost on anyone.

They moved in together in a small apartment in a dingy building. Because neither of them had glamorous jobs, they couldn't afford much. But many would describe their way of life as 'living on love'. Sure, it was cliché.

But it was true.

Everything was absolutely perfect for a few months. Liz was actually in awe of how smoothly things were going. She wasn't sure that life could even be this perfect.

Maybe she jinxed it.

Because before their six-month anniversary even rolled around, there she was holding a pregnancy test. After seeing the thin pink line, she threw it as hard as she could against the opposite wall.

It didn't even make a mark, which seemed to anger her more.

This would screw everything up. She knew it would. They could hardly afford to live themselves, there was no way they could support a kid. No way.

When she told Jimmy, he was floored. Completely shocked.

He was going to have a kid. He was going to be a father. _Him_, of all people.

And he knew that there was no way he could do it.

Jimmy stuck around, though, through the pregnancy. But as the months dragged on, he became more and more distant. By her eighth month, they were barely talking. And when she went into labor, she had to drive herself to the hospital because he was screening her calls.

After getting her message, though, he arrived in her room just minutes after Luke.

Like any good husband, he held her hand through the delivery as her brother sat in the chair outside the door. He cut the umbilical cord. He held the baby. He stayed with Liz for the mandatory 24-hour period that she had to remain in the hospital.

And when they left, he offered to go pick up some diapers and meet them back at the house.

Liz was excited. She thought that she and Jimmy were finally bonding; finally getting close to the way that they were. So she smiled through the whole ride home from Luke.

He was glad, too, that she was happy again.

She waited for about an hour before sending Luke home. Jimmy was probably just caught up in traffic somewhere. That had to be it.

Another hour passed as she sat, awaiting her husband's return. She fell asleep on the couch, and when she awoke two hours later to her son's screams, still no Jimmy.

Then Liz knew.

He was gone.

Her hand flew to her mouth in realization as the tears began to flow freely from her eyes.

She picked up her son and held him as she sat on the couch.

And she rocked him slowly as they cried together.

--

To Be Continued…


	7. Patricia LaCosta

A/N: Chapter 7! It's a little short, I'm afraid.

Once again, sorry for the slight delay. Finals week… Ugh.

--

Chapter Seven – Patricia LaCosta

--

Sinjin was Patty's first husband.

And her last.

But not in the same marriage.

Their first time as a married couple, they were extremely happy.

Although, that may have had something to due with the large amount of alcohol consumed that night.

Whether it was love or booze, they worked pretty well. For a while, at least.

After a few months together in L.A., Patty's show career and Sinjin's newly revealed drug problem began to take its toll on them. Both of them began staying out later and later.

And sometimes they didn't even come home at all.

Eventually, Patty couldn't take his issues anymore. He was a drug addict, and she couldn't hide herself from that fact, as much as she had tried.

So she left him.

She had two husbands after that.

But John was a rebound.

And Sergio?

Well, he was the rebound of the rebound, if that makes any sense.

After her third divorce, she wasn't sure if she ever wanted to get married again. It was too much of a hassle. She'd always been one to watch cheesy chick flicks and believe in true love, but now she wasn't so sure if 'the one' really existed.

Maybe it was just one of those Hallmark-esqe things, created for fantasy and imagination.

But when Sinjin came crawling back to her, she forgot all about her new 'no men' policy.

He claimed he'd been through rehab. He claimed he was done with drugs. He claimed he was willing to commit.

He claimed he'd changed.

And she believed him.

Looking back, she can see it was a foolish choice. One made by a young woman desperate for love.

But she couldn't help herself.

This time around, despite Sinjin's supposed transformation, things were worse.

His drug problem resurfaced, but that was only the tip of the iceberg. There was so much more waiting to be revealed.

He began drinking, coming home in intoxicated rages. He began to hit her nightly, leaving large purple bruises on her arms and face. He would yell at her; call her names and accuse her of cheating when they both knew that it was him who was being unfaithful.

Patty had to spend a lot on make-up to keep up her showbiz career. Most of her friends could tell what she was going through, but they turned the other cheek.

They knew she was strong. They knew she'd know when to hightail it out of there.

But somehow Patty couldn't leave him.

Because she knew that under that tough, drunk skin of his, the real Sinjin was in there somewhere. The man she'd fallen in love with all those years ago was still there, she knew it.

And she had the crazy, farfetched hope that somehow she'd see the old Sinjin again.

--

To Be Continued…


	8. Carol Stiles

A/N: Chapter 8!

In all actuality, the first time this came to me, I forgot all about 4:18, Tick, Tick, Tick, Boom, so I thought that I didn't have enough of this character to go off of. But now that I remembered, I think I have enough to create a back-story…

--

Chapter Eight – Carol Stiles

--

When you were a trophy wife in a civilized society, the wives of your husband's business associates were your friends. The wives of your husband's business rivals were your enemies.

Because whether you liked it or not, your husband controlled your life.

Wives relied on their husbands for everything. In a social class such as this, women working, bringing in income, was frowned upon.

Carol Stiles had been good friends with Emily. They had a lot in common.

As wives of experienced businessmen, they lived very similar lives. Their husbands were often gone, and because of the men's status on the social ladder, they attended and planned numerous functions and meetings.

She remembered the long evenings that they spent with the other ladies, discussing their husband's most recent business accomplishments.

Carol also remembered the chats that she and Emily shared, privately.

It seemed so… childish and juvenile to call Emily Gilmore her 'best friend'. But that's what she'd been, back when Richard had worked for Floyd.

They'd shared their dreams with each other, as well as their fears. Just before Richard had quit, they'd been planning to take a vacation to Europe, the two of them.

It would've been fun.

When she'd heard that Richard left the business, she was devastated. She knew what this meant for her friendship with the Gilmores.

That was the first time she'd ever felt truly alone.

She'd turned pale from spending so may days indoors. All she did was plan functions and attend tea parties with women who she was expected to call her friends. She became withdrawn, and, even when she spent time at social events, she kept to herself.

Slowly, she'd slipped into depression.

And her husband didn't notice.

Not that she'd expected he would.

When he'd told her that they were going to dinner at the Gilmore house, she'd been happy.

But his explanation of what they were doing there wiped the smile right off her face.

Her husband expected her to betray the woman who, though only in her own mind, was still called her best friend. She was asked to make polite, friendly small talk with someone while her husband went around ruining a family's life.

But her husband told her to do it, so she did.

That was how things worked.

She spoke calmly to her long-time friend as her husband went about his sly business just a few rooms over. She told humorous stories about various family members. She acted as if they were 'never going to let the business come between them again' as the voices began to rise slightly down the hall.

And after spending time catching up with Emily, she left her sitting in her torn-apart household.

The look on her face had broken Carol's heart.

She managed to keep it together, though, until she arrived home. After locking herself in the bathroom, she stayed in there for several hours with only her tears and thoughts to keep her company.

In the end, she came to the conclusion that there was nothing she could do.

Because Floyd was in charge of her life, after all.

--

To Be Continued…


	9. Lorelai Gilmore

A/N: Final chapter, chapter 9.

I went a tad bit off my original idea here, writing about more of an unhappy _fiancée_.

This chapter was a tad inspired by a discussion shared both today and yesterday in my English class…

I feel like I'm just repeating myself, but I apologize for the delay in posting this. With finals and projects and work on my soon-to-be new house… Ugh. But I have other stories in mind that I may take some time to write after this one, so stay tuned!

--

Chapter Nine – Lorelai Gilmore

--

Lorelai swayed the porch swing slightly with her feet as she stared at the new, beautifully carved archway that now grazed the surface of her yellowing lawn. And as she stared, she thought.

She thought about Max. She thought about Rory. She thought about her upcoming wedding. She thought about the chuppah.

And she thought about Luke. But more importantly, what Luke had said.

"_You only get married once."_

The sentence rang through her mind, repeating itself over and over.

"_You only get married once."_

Was this what she really wanted? Was Max the clichéd 'one'? Was he her 'something more'?

She sighed, even more confused than she'd been to begin with.

How would she know if this was _it_? How would she know that she wouldn't run into someone on the street that she would love eight times as much?

How would she know?

"_You only get married once."_

If this were her only shot, would it be worth it? Was she sure?

She thought more about what Luke had said. Were she and Max really meant for each other? Would he be able to put up with her? Could they grow and evolve at the same rate? Would they get sick of each other?

Lorelai cringed. Would he make her eat French food?

She sighed again, this time a happy sigh, as she gazed out at the intricately carved chuppah. No one had made her anything as amazing as that before.

Not even Max.

Exhaling deeply, Lorelai looked down at her engagement ring. It really was perfect, wasn't it?

But then again, he'd needed her daughter's help to pick it out. Shouldn't he know her well enough to do that himself?

She really didn't know. She'd never been engaged before, after all.

Lorelai rubbed her temples to relieve the headache that was threatening to overtake her. This was too much.

She looked up at the chuppah for a moment, then glanced back to the ring.

Chuppah.

Ring.

Chuppah.

Ring.

Lorelai put her head in her hands. She couldn't take it anymore.

Maybe she didn't know much about love besides the clichés and cheesy stories, but she was pretty sure that this wasn't _it_.

Whether it was the truth or not, Lorelai knew in her gut that if you were _trying _to love someone… well, it couldn't be right.

She shook her head, trying to clear at least some of her thoughts.

This was it.

No Max.

She sighed. Oddly, she felt relieved. Like a weight had been lifted off of her shoulders.

Lorelai knew she'd made the right choice.

With one last look at the chuppah, she rose to her feet and went inside to talk to Rory.

They were going on a road trip.

--

And here it ends.

Please, please review!


End file.
